Following the runes on the room key, Jie Ming quickly located his assigned accommodation.

Pushing open the metal door inscribed with soundproofing and protective runes, the sight that greeted him made him raise an eyebrow slightly.

According to the information on the key, each room came equipped with a laboratory, but in reality, it was less a room with a lab and more a laboratory that had grudgingly carved out a small corner for resting.

Over ninety percent of the space was occupied by a comprehensive array of basic yet complete experimental equipment—energy sensing matrices, material analyzers, rune engraving stations, and more.

The simple bed in the corner and a small washroom seemed like mere afterthoughts, existing only to fulfill basic physiological needs.

“Very wizardly. Very practical.” Jie Ming felt no dissatisfaction; instead, he nodded in approval.

This was the true lifestyle most wizards, including himself, were accustomed to.

In his Golden Garden and the core laboratory in the Infernal Sulfur plane, he spent the vast majority of his time in much the same way—rest was merely a necessary interlude between research sessions.

If not for the fact that prolonged mental tension reduced learning and research efficiency, many wizards would likely choose potions to eliminate the need for rest altogether.

He briefly inspected the standard laboratory equipment; both precision and functionality exceeded the baseline, sufficient for most non-cutting-edge experiments.

Of course, for him, these were mere bonuses. The primary tools were the personal set maintained and upgraded by his black giant priests, carried within his internal world.

Learning that there was still some time before the formal audience with Grand-Mentor or the promotion ceremony, Jie Ming completely abandoned any notion of going out to explore.

Though the various researches in the Infernal Sulfur plane were handled by his efficient team of black giant priests, Jie Ming still preferred to remotely oversee key data and progress daily through the soul contract for peace of mind.

Beyond that, his core task during this respite was to digest and absorb the massive amount of knowledge he had purchased—location made no difference for study.

Thus, he began his “seclusion” right there in the “guest room.”

Three months passed quietly in this manner.

It was not until a somewhat urgent knock, carrying a specific frequency—like a stone dropped into a still lake—shattered the absolute silence of the laboratory, awakening Jie Ming from the vast ocean of spatial theories.

Frowning slightly, he reluctantly set aside the composite rune structure he was deducing, rose, and opened the door.

Standing outside was Viola.

She unceremoniously slipped past him into the room, not rushing to speak but instead scrutinizing Jie Ming from head to toe with eyes gleaming with an odd light, as if examining a rare specimen.

Jie Ming, somewhat baffled by her gaze, spoke first: “What’s wrong, Senior Sister?”

Viola clicked her tongue in wonder: “You’re a real monster! Three whole months! I asked around—you truly never stepped out once, just holed up in here studying the entire time?”

She pointed at the instruments around them, clearly showing signs of frequent use: “Finally making it to headquarters, with so many novel things outside and so many peers to exchange ideas with, and you’re not tempted at all?”

Jie Ming shook his head, his tone calm: “There’s a lot of knowledge I want to learn during this break. For now, I’m not interested.”

“Not interested?” Viola narrowed her eyes suspiciously, leaning in closer, her nostrils flaring slightly as if sniffing something.

Then, a look of “as expected” appeared on her face: “I think it’s not that you’re uninterested—your greatest interest is learning knowledge itself, isn’t it?!”

Jie Ming paused, then realization dawned.

He remembered Viola’s unique “pain law.”

Since entering, she had likely subconsciously probed his emotional fluctuations.

The mental fatigue from prolonged high-intensity study and the frustration from difficulties in understanding typically carried varying degrees of “pain.”

Yet from Jie Ming’s own experience, he felt no such pain: “Strictly speaking, my greatest interest isn’t learning knowledge—it’s improving my strength.”

Seeing that Jie Ming had grasped her probing, Viola didn’t hide it and rolled her eyes: “I’ve never met anyone as freakish as you! Is studying as natural to you as breathing, producing not even a trace of ‘pain’?”

Jie Ming smiled without explaining his uniqueness and shifted the topic: “Senior Sister came specifically to find me—it can’t just be to confirm if I’m a ‘freak,’ right?”

Reminded thus, Viola slapped her forehead: “Almost forgot the main thing! Mentor Clark just sent word—Grand-Mentor’s final preparations are complete. He plans to formally meet us grand-disciples tomorrow.”

Jie Ming’s heart tightened as he seized the key point: “Grand-Mentor is ready to advance?”

Viola thought for a moment and shook her head: “Not the final moment yet. According to Mentor, this meeting is more like a final adjustment and preparation before the promotion, and incidentally to let our lineage get to know each other and become familiar.”

“After all, the chance to observe an eighth-level promotion is once in a millennium. Grand-Mentor hopes his descendants will be better prepared, gaining even a fraction more insight when the time comes.”

Jie Ming nodded, indicating understanding.

It was like a pre-battle oath—both to boost morale and to clarify the rules.

Having conveyed the main matter, Viola watched Jie Ming return to the experiment table, pick up a knowledge crystal, and prepare to resume his studies. Her mouth twitched involuntarily.

She felt that Jie Ming’s aura of indifference to the outside world, fully immersed in the sea of knowledge, was growing more and more like Mentor Clark—perhaps even surpassing him.

Not giving up, she quietly activated her law perception once more.

Still a “pure land”—no negative emotional fluctuations from grappling with profound knowledge, only a state approaching “serenity.”

“What a monster…” Viola muttered under her breath, her tone this time carrying less teasing and more a complex mix of emotion with a trace of barely noticeable admiration.

Only those who had truly scaled the peaks of knowledge understood the immense “pain” brought by the relentless mental drain and setbacks on the rugged paths of theory.

She—or rather, the vast majority of wizards—could force themselves through bitter cultivation like Jie Ming with sheer willpower, but they could never find it so “sweet as nectar.”

“Before long, this guy might even surpass me.” Viola gazed at Jie Ming’s focused profile.

Then she shook her head, no longer disturbing him, and quietly closed the door as she left.